Small fine line tattoo of a black and white cat face with pink ears and yellow-green eyes on the inner wrist, beside a sleeping black and white cat.

Black and white cat face on a wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A small tattoo of a cat's face sits on the inner wrist, showing black fur patches, pink inner ears, a pink nose and yellow-green eyes. The linework is fine and the black areas are solid, with light shading on the muzzle and whiskers drawn in thin lines. A sleeping black and white cat rests its head and paw across the arm against a pale floral blanket in soft sunlight.

Fine line Forearm Cat Cat face Pet Whiskers Portrait

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The Admiral had never bought a ticket, yet by the end of March he had ridden the 6.52 to Carsley more often than the stationmaster had. He boarded at Thornleigh Halt with the air of a man who owned the line, black cap pulled low over his eyes, white bib kept spotless despite the soot on the platform. Nobody asked him to get off. The guard, who had a soft spot for anything that would not complain about the cold, left a folded newspaper on the seat for him.

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Ada Quarrie kept lost property in a cupboard under the stairs, and it was there, among a dozen umbrellas and one left-footed wellington, that the Admiral chose to sleep. She shut the door on him twice. Both times he sat outside it and stared at her with those yellow-green eyes until she gave in and wrote him into the ledger: one cat, black and white, unclaimed, very sure of himself.

In April a letter arrived from the rail company saying the halt would close at the end of the timetable. Ada read it standing up, then sat down on the bench beside the Admiral, who was washing one white paw with great concentration. 'They want to board us up,' she told him. He did not look up. He had been on every train that week, and the drivers had started waving at him.

On the last Friday a boy came in with a school bag and asked whether anybody had lost a cat. Ada looked at the Admiral, who had settled on the ticket window ledge like a small, disapproving magistrate. 'Not today,' she said. The boy shrugged and went back out into the rain. Ada opened the ledger, drew a line through unclaimed, and sat down with the cat across her wrist, his chin resting on the open page.